In Dogville Proper, Mrs. King spots him and comes forward, but stays back when she notices the braid. He hands it to her, and she is very beautiful, this woman. "He gave you this. Huh." Helo nods; she asks after Hera, and turns to leave. "Mrs. King, please. I need to ask you something. If you thought Dr. Robert was dangerous, why let him treat your son? I mean, you said you were warned..." She tells him she honestly couldn't believe anybody would carry around that much hate inside, and Helo pushes, and she gets bored with the conversation, because it seems like he's still blaming her somehow and not trying to figure out the mystery. The Helo Suit even turns grieving moms into tiny little assholes. She keeps his gaze as he apologizes once again, and takes off. Mrs. King holds the braid and worries like a zombie.
In the wonderful Agathon quarters, there are baby blankets on the floor and a cute Viper mobile hanging over the crib. Sharon, folding laundry -- don't give Park props like this, she gets too into the business to the point that the laundry is like a third character in the scene; also, don't give the wife laundry, it's stupid -- notes that Helo's a bit angry. "I'm not, I'm just... Work." Sharon tells him it's okay to hate the Mayor job, even to admit that he hates it, and Helo whines. "It's not the job! I know the job sucks, I don't need to be reminded of it!" Um, rude? Sharon counts to three and tries again. "Then what is it?" He doesn't answer the question, just snarls words. "It's hard to not see it," he says, beginning to pace all over the baby's blankets on the floor. "See what? Talk to me, Karl." He complains about how he always ends up on the wrong side of everything. Which is not precisely true: other than marrying a Cylon that even Adama considers family, he only ends up on the wrong side of everything when Michael Angeli puts on his Helo Suit. "You know, maybe Tigh's right. Maybe I want it that way." As though that were a convincing emotional theory for any character ever. Sharon makes a little bit of an ouch face, because nobody likes to be called a symptom of aversive pathology. "What if I'm flying a desk not because I'm good at it, not because I'm right guy for the job, but because it's the right punishment for the guy who crosses the line, and everybody knows it? Maybe I belong in Dogville." The only punishment for crossing the line is having to live on both sides of it. Talk to your motherfracking wife. Sharon goes to town on the laundry, flouncing and fluffing, and nearly takes offense, but decides to drop it -- because she's right to take offense, but she can't say that because of the Helo Suit Effect, which means she has to bite her tongue -- and Helo invites her to speak right up. "It's your job to manage these people, Helo, and you've just got to do it." Word! It's not all about you! There's not a conspiracy among all adults to block your virtue and put your lantern under a bushel or whatever the hell is going on here. They are too busy with their own shit. If you feel like your super-duper awesomeness is getting ignored by the world at large, I'm going to let you in on a secret: you're not that fucking awesome. Helo snits about how whatever, maybe she's right, maybe it's all in his head (IT IS! JEEZ!) and stomps off to be righteous somewhere else. Sharon's like, "The hell are you doing?" and then he leaves, so of course she sits down and stares into space and thinks about how he just kind of showed her some pretty gross stuff about Helo. Then she defeats more laundry.